


The Lightning Mobile Suit and the Invincible Pilot

by dramaticbanjo



Category: Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaticbanjo/pseuds/dramaticbanjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nishiki is the mobile suit pilot stationed at the base, and constant raids have pushed him and the mechanic, Midori, to almost their wits end, until the flashy rescue from the newest pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lightning Mobile Suit and the Invincible Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Giant robots, space opera AU, what more do you want.

“Maybe if you learned how to dodge better I wouldn’t have to rebuild Musashi from scratch every time you went out and fought!” Midori yanked on Nishiki’s ponytail, making him wince as much as her lecture did, “I’m a mechanic, not a miracle worker!”  
“Y-Yeah…”  
One last yank and she let go with a sigh, “Augh, but there’s nothing we can do until the Earth Feds send more Gundam fighters…” Running a hand through her red hair, she looked up at the towering figure of Nishiki’s Gundam, its thick armor marred by scorch marks from the UE’s attacks, “What’s with the long face, Ryouma? I got this.” Rolling her shoulders so they cracked, she started walking back towards the Mobile Suit, waving him away, “You’ll be ready to go for the next patrol, okay? Go get something to eat or something.”

Giving her one last goodbye, and massaging his head where the hair had almost been pulled out, Nishiki left down the space station’s corridor, letting out a loud breath.   
The UE’s attempts at getting through the Earth Federation’s defense had increased in frequency and ferocity, and even Midori’s well-intentioned banter was tinged with worry. Nishiki let out another loud sigh, opening another door to reach the cafeteria. One of soldiers who worked on the bridge, Shindou nodded at him as he took a tray and started taking food, “Are you okay, Nishiki? There’s been a lot of attacks recently…”  
Pausing in picking up a piece of bread, Nishiki gave him a grin, “It’s going to be no problem, Captain.”  
Shindou looked like he didn’t buy his words, but another worker, Kirino, waved him over at a table and he left Nishiki to finish getting his food. 

He was almost done with his food and was starting to eat his last rice ball when the screech of the emergency siren made him jump. A table over, Shindou leapt to his feet, “Dammit! Another attack so soon?” Before he had finished his sentence, Nishiki was already running for the door and heading down to the hanger.  
Pulling open the door when the automatic opening took too long, Nishiki ran until he was standing in front of his Gundam, “Midori! Is it fixed?”  
“It’s been only an hour, what do you think?!” She yelled from where she had been fixing Musashi’s arm, “It’s nowhere near done!”  
“But the alarm…”  
“I’m not deaf!” She dropped down to the platform, pulling a level on the control panel to make the cords and tubing fall off of the robot, “You’re going to have to pull through with this, Ryouma.” While he jumped up to the cockpit, she bit her lip, “You…You be careful out there, you got it?”  
He gave her a thumbs up before the hatch closed and the launch count down started. 

There were more than last time, and they had far more guns as well. Whatever systems the UE’s had in their Mechas, the targeting system was getting better, and the blaster fire was already eating through his shield. Midori had done what she could, but all the damage from the previous skirmish was still there, and Nishiki knew that the enemies knew that as well. Still, he pressed on, trying to avoid getting even more damage and keep his Gundam in one piece—if something else happened to Musashi, he shuddered to think about what Midori would do to him.   
Then again, if he didn’t make it through this, then Raimon Station was as good as defenseless. The sound of an explosion and the warning systems snapped him out of his thoughts, and a screen to his left showing the status of the Mobile Suit informed him in blaring red letter that the left arm was down and the right arm was soon to follow, his flight systems were going to give way soon and the Gundam’s shield system couldn’t take much more. Though he had fought his way out of plenty of desperate situations, nothing looked quite as hopeless as this. Gritting his teeth, Nishiki refocused on the battlefield, reloading Musashi’s blaster, only to find it was out of ammo. Seeing no other choice, he activated the energy sabers, “You’re not getting through so easily! I’ll stop you!”  
Inwardly, he silently apologized to Midori.   
Launching forward, he let Musashi smash into the cluster of UE suits, slashing with the energy saber as it cut through their armor. Another swing of his Gundam’s remaining arm and a UE suit crashed into the others that were trying to come in as reinforcements, before they tossed them aside. On his right side, the radar screen showed there were still far more than he, or the Raimon Station’s defense system, could deal with.   
And it looked like the UE knew that too.   
Suddenly, his communication linked crackled to life and the loud, boisterous laugh on the other end made him jump in his cockpit by the unexpectedness of it.   
“Ha! Is this what the Raimon line is defending with?” Was the only warning before another Mobile Suit smashed into the UE ranks, black and red armor gleaming. Nishiki’s mouth fell open as the radar system beeped, showing the new Gundam rapidly decimating the enemy forces.   
“Not even a challenge!”   
By the time they were finished, not a sing UE machine was left, and the only mark on the new Gundam was a single, long scorch mark on its twin shields.   
Nishiki felt like he was dreaming. 

It quickly became apparent he was not dreaming when Midori pulled on his ponytail so hard he swore that her fist pulled away with strands of hair in it, “You idiot! Engaging them in close combat with practically a non-functioning Gundam? You could have died!” He held up his hands in a placating gesture, wisely taking a step back so she couldn’t move on to stomp on his toes. Meanwhile, her face slowly grew more and more red until she settled for calling him an idiot in a few more languages and then turning to start repairing the extensive damage on Musashi. Though he knew he was far from out of the danger zone, Nishiki let out a held breath, and turned to look at the new Gundam, which was parked in the empty space in the hanger next to Musashi. Its pilot was standing on the platform, talking to Shindou, who had an increasingly troubled expression on his face. Finally, the brown haired captain walked away, leaving the pilot alone, and Nishiki watched the captain leave curiously, before starting to walk towards the new pilot. It couldn’t hurt to talk to them, and the things that Shindou disapproved of was a very long list, and the mechanic for the station, Ibuki, took up a fifth of it.   
The other pilot seemed nonplussed about Shindou, and pulled off his helmet, letting thick braids of wild and dark hair fall out around his shoulders, and a shake from his head made them rustle and hang down his back.   
Hearing Nishiki’s boots on the metal platform, he turned, a smirk, that looked like it was probably always there, on his lips and sharp, crimson eyes that looked like they belonged on his fearsome Gundam.   
“So you’re this station’s pilot, eh?” His rough voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question, and he held out one hand in front of him, the other holding his helmet under his arm, “Zanark Avalonic, Super Pilot. You almost destroyed your Gundam.”   
Nishiki shook, a little surprised by how up front Zanark appeared to be, “Nishiki Ryouma—there was a skirmish an hour before…”   
Zanark made a dismissive sound, letting go of Nishiki’s hand and putting his hand on his waist, “A nice warm up, though.” His smirk turned a little larger, “Not too difficult.” He started walking past Nishiki, “If the UE keep attacking like that, I might just fall asleep at the controls.”   
The door slid shut after him as he left, and Nishiki was left standing at the platform. Up by Musashi’s arm, Midori snorted, “Great guy right there.” There was the sound of metal on metal as she pried open another panel, “Then again, I guess we’re lucky to have him on our side.” Nishiki nodded, still looking after where Zanark had left, and Midori paused in her work to raise an eyebrow, “Earth to Nishiki.” He jumped a little, before giving her a wave, “So, uh, when will repairs be done?”  
“Not soon enough. You better settle down to be grounded for a little bit.” Nodding in thanks, he left her to her work, leaving the same way the other pilot had.

It was easy to find Zanark, surprisingly enough. The rest of the crew were obviously going to be curious about the new pilot, and were suspiciously going by the mess hall to see him. At a table, Zanark hadn’t bothered to change out of his pilot uniform, his helmet on the bench beside him, nonchalantly listening to Tenma, the lieutenant, gush excitedly about his appearance in the attack, with an arrogant smirk on his face.   
“I don’t like his attitude.” A voice next to Nishiki made him look around in surprise, and he almost looked past the shorter form of Kurama, who was scowling, “He’s not going to work well as a team member and he’s going to get himself killed with that stupid ego of his.” He made a disapproving sound, crossing his arms, “Are you really going to work with him, Nishiki?”  
Nishiki gave him a sheepish grin and a shrug, making Kurama roll his eyes, “But I guess its not like we have a choice.” He grumbled, walking away down the hall.   
Inside the mess hall, Zanark laughed loudly, not bothering to control his volume, and reached across the table to slap Tenma playfully on the shoulder, almost sending the shorter boy off the bench.   
As the new pilot, people in some sort of way surrounded Zanark for next few days, and the few small skirmishes with UE scouting ships and his black and red Gundam Zodiac only made him more fascinating to the crew of the station. Despite Kurama’s words proving true, his confidence and almost unnatural talent was undeniable. Whenever he visited the hanger, Nishiki was able to catch Midori grumbling about how Zodiac should be sporting some sort of damage by now and the most she had to do was recalibrate the targeting systems after Zanark had tried a complicated move that involved blowing up an asteroid. Though he agreed with her, Nishiki also had seen him fight from the decks of the station, and had been almost transfixed.   
When the door to the hanger slid open, Nishiki was surprised for once that Midori wasn’t working or barking orders to the other mechanics, and privately hoped she was getting some sleep for once. In the empty room, Musashi stood on its platform, looking far better than it had when he had dragged it in the day Zanark had appeared and saved him. Letting out a long breath, he looked up at the Gundam, smiling faintly, “Looks like you’re almost all better.” He said aloud, “We’ll be out there soon enough. Just hang in there.” His voice echoed slightly, “We’ll be able to fight off the UE and protect everyone.”   
“And I thought I was the only one who did that.” The sudden but familiar voice made him turn quickly on one heel to see Zanark leaning on the wall, where he had apparently been hidden, holding a large bottle of alcohol in one hand. As usual, there was a smirk on his face, but his braids were loose and flowing, and his jacket was unzipped more than usual, showing his tan collarbones, “Has it ever said anything back?” Nishiki could feel a light blush work its way up his neck to his ears, and Zanark laughed, pushing himself off the wall to walk up his side, “You’re pretty interesting, Nishiki Ryouma.” Before he could say thank you, Zanark held up the bottle, “Wanna’ drink?” His tone said that if Nishiki didn’t say yes, he was probably going to drink the entire bottle by himself.   
“Okay.”

Strangely, the more he drank, Zanark seemed to get quieter, making low sounds of agreement as Nishiki talked, mostly about his time stationed Raimon, refilling either of their cups when they got low. He did still laugh loudly whenever he did; sometimes even throwing back his head, dark braids bouncing against his chest. Nishiki would end up laughing with him, his hair falling out of his ponytail, so he would have to tuck loose strands behind his ear.   
It must have been getting late, because Nishiki finally noticed the bottle was almost empty, and Zanark’s smirk had turned more content than arrogant, probably from all that he had drank. “It’s getting late…you should probably get some rest, Zanark.” The other made a hum that could either be dismissive or an agreement, draining his cup in one go, “And Musashi is almost fixed, so we’ll be taking patrols together soon.”   
Another hum, and the click of Zanark setting his cup down on the metal of the platform, made Nishiki glance over at him. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Zanark silenced by leaning across the space suddenly, reaching over with one hand to weave his tan fingers into Nishiki’s loose hair, pulling him closer so he could kiss him.   
Nishiki’s eyes widened and he dropped his empty cup when Zanark’s lips pressed against his, freezing out of surprise as the new pilot tilted his head to get a better angle. After a minute, Zanark pulled away, but only a few inches away, his eyes half lidded and his breath smelling of alcohol.   
“You’re interesting, Nishiki Ryouma.” He said again, voice deeper than normal, dropping his hand and pulling away, “I’ll enjoy fighting beside you.”


End file.
